Facts & Fairy Tales
by ArcadiaArden
Summary: A fairy tale can only be as genuine as the truth it comes from. Slightly Dark. Post 3x10 2-shot.
1. Chapter 1

Rizzoli & Isles – I certainly don't own them. I give a lot of credit to the people that do and thank them for letting me mess about with them for a bit.

Set post 3x10

And now both chapters are up with the snaffus over (I hope!) :) I suggest a re-read... it was written to be posted as a complete 2-shot

* * *

Jane let out a sigh. The sheets in Maura's guest room slid silkily along her body as she shifted.

It was too quiet in the room.

Part of her longed to be back in her apartment, in her own room, in her own bed, where her TV could drown out the silence, the other part knew she'd be miserable almost anyplace else. Laying in the stillness, her thoughts clamored piercingly, forcing her to relive the day.

It was too much. Jesus Christ.

There was a baby sleeping next to her mother that was either her nephew or her brother. Everyone had left for now, but early tomorrow there would be questions she wasn't sure you could answer right or wrong. Decisions that would be made that would impact everyone's life no matter which choice was made.

Ramifications that you couldn't escape.

Not that life was fucking fair but to be impacted over and over again by other people's stupid decisions sucked. What was she supposed to do now? Help raise her half sibling because her father was acting like a grade-A asshole? Or better yet, cover for Tommy, again, because he couldn't figure out how to use a condom? It would help if either of them could even act vaguely like an adult. Shit.

Not cool.

But again that was life.

Jane flipped onto her other side.

She couldn't do this anymore. She couldn't. Days like this made her question what the point of it all was. Which was exactly why she needed to fall asleep. Tomorrow had to be better and tomorrow would come a hell of a lot faster if she wasn't awake.

A room away she hoped Maura was finally resting. Was it possible for panic to leave the inside of you bruised? Because she could still feel every agonizing second. Jane pulled the pillow from the other side of the bed and wrapped her arms around it, pressing it tightly against her. There were images from today she knew were going to feature in her nightmares.

It had been too close. Too close again. How many times was she going to have to watch Maura almost lose her life? Jane ran her fingers along the pillowcase, fingering the decorative braid along the opening. The dainty touch on a utilitarian object made her throat constrict. It was a Maura touch. What if she hadn't made it in time today? What if those little touches in life were just gone?

Clutching the pillow tighter, she wished again for her own apartment. Or rather she wished for her own apartment with Maura there. She was alive and just a hallway away but tonight even that distance was uncomfortable. Right now she'd give anything to be able to hear Maura breathe.

She couldn't help but laugh at herself. That thought was pathetic.

Her emotions were ragged and out of control.

Flashes from the day burst unbidden and Jane couldn't stop them. Thick humid city heat blasting her when Frost's unmarked hit the curb next to the brick building. Acid fear driving her steps impossibly fast. Frustration at the climb uphill as her lungs burned stair after stair. Blocking out voices, sounds, until everything came into sharp focus as she crashed into Rockmond's apartment.

There was the rush of relief at seeing Maura, alive, whole. Another breath brought horror, as Rockmond's arm wound around Maura's throat, tugging her back and to him. Terrorized hazel eyes begged above the cold steel blade at her neck and the image burning itself permanently on her retina.

Jane felt her breathing pick up and she flipped onto her stomach, burying her face in her arms. She'd been so focused on Maura at that second she hadn't noticed the open elevator shaft.

A fail.

Again she relived Rockmond sliding to the edge with Maura. Close enough that if Jane ran she'd reach her in a heartbeat but if she moved she'd be dead even faster. There was a voice that she now knew was hers, desperately spewing out trained words and phrases. She still had no idea what she said.

Then that split second when Maura was tossed into her arms and she caught her, holding her, dragging her upright. Maura's life spared. Perhaps because this was not his vision or maybe in his own sick way, if he couldn't honor her in a sculpture, there wasn't a reason to kill her. Whatever the reason, Maura was alive because Rockmond decided to let her live. Jane hadn't rescued her, hadn't seen the danger lurking.

She failed.

She'd stepped away from Maura briefly to look down at his prone body before turning to face Maura's disbelief, her rapid breathing, and the questions asked that Maura already knew the answers to.

But this wasn't Maura's intellect talking.

This was her best friend begging Jane to make sense of it all and she couldn't.

Failure again and she grabbed Maura's hands begging her to see what both of them as professionals knew. As a detective Jane had the answers but as Maura's best friend she didn't have anything. When Maura recognized that Jane wasn't going to have some magic bullet, some way to make sense out of the chaos, there was a moment of disbelief before she broke.

It terrified Jane. She'd grabbed Maura like she could hold the pieces of her together if she just squeezed hard enough and Maura had grabbed her back with an almost crushing desperation. Everything else faded for Jane even as the world continued to move around them. Eventually Frost's voice penetrated the haze and slowly they moved outside, long steps past colleagues enacting familiar roles, her arm still around Maura's shoulder and her hand still caught in Maura's grasp.

Outside Rockmond 's building Maura had been removed from her arms. The loss of contact overcame the adrenaline rush and she'd barely made it around the corner before she vomited into the alley. Korsak had come to find her, to let her know Maura was done giving a statement and passed her his handkerchief when she finally finished dry heaving.

She sat up with an annoyed huff, slamming the pillow back down on the other side of the bed.

That split second when Maura was tossed into her arms had shattered her. Even as she told Maura there was no way she could have seen Rockmond for what he was, even believing that, a voice in the back of her head whispered that she, Detective Jane Rizzoli, should have known.

Jane ran her thumbs along her scars, pressing hard against the scar tissue. They were her brand, her proof that she, more than any other person in Maura's life, should have instantly seen the monster circling around her best friend. And if she wasn't capable of doing that, how was she capable of helping Maura at all? She couldn't even help herself.

Instead she'd spent hours sitting and hovering. Getting Maura home, insisting that she lie down, covering her with a blanket. She refused to ask if she could or should stay out of fear of being sent away. Leaving wasn't an option. Not being in physical contact was not an option.

Maura had simply curled up on her couch, a certain tired cast to her features that Jane was sure she'd never seen before. It broke her heart. All she could do was sit as close as possible and drift her hands over calves and feet, relieved with each touch that Maura was alive. Happy to be there but feeling overwhelmingly helpless.

Eventually Maura had stopped staring off into the living room and started including long, poignant moments looking at Jane. The room started to close around her and she became grateful that her mother was there methodically knitting. Uncharacteristically quiet, but present.

Jane kept waiting for Angela to break the silence but the only noise coming from her chair was the sound of rhythmically moving knitting needles. Other than an occasional concerned glance at Maura and a weighted look at Jane she held her tongue and didn't move.

Which didn't help Jane figure out what she should be doing, or what she wasn't doing right and she jumped up and paced into the kitchen, somewhat at a loss as to what she was doing there.

So she'd made a sandwich.

At first it was just to give her hands something to do other than continually touch Maura but suddenly she understood the basic need feeding her family fulfilled for her mother. Maura was hurting and depressed. It was a way to say I am here for you. I will take care of you.

When her Ma had finally prompted Maura to speak it wasn't a surprise what came out of her mouth. Jane knew she couldn't stop her from thinking about everything she had missed or mistake she thought she made, but Jane could repeat as many times as necessary the cold facts she knew Maura needed to hear.

When she had returned with the plate in hand she'd noticed that Maura was still curled up, legs drawn towards her stomach, leaving room for Jane. She shook her head negatively at the sandwich but she looked at her, waiting. Jane realized Maura wanted her to sit back down. Maybe she wasn't the only one benefiting from the tactile connection. So she sat and continued to run her hands over any part of Maura she could easily reach. Continued to remind her over and over that they all didn't see it, that monsters are truly scary because they live in plain sight. Hopefully Maura would recognize the truth and believe it because Jane understood. She knew what it was like to be the target of a demon that walked around looking like just another person.

Maura had shifted to look at her and the expression was weary and lost. It broke her heart. She never loved her mother more than the moment she shifted the conversation with practiced ease. Jane latched onto the opportunity, knowing just what comments would force Maura to laugh. By the time she'd waxed poetic about her career aspirations with the NHL the other woman was chuckling, the forlorn lines softening and when she met Jane's eyes there was affection warring with the sadness.

Just minutes later the doorbell rang and the focus of the night instantly changed to the slip of a human swaddled in a baby blue blanket. That poor, beautiful baby didn't even have a mother that could rub two brain cells together. Jane punched her pillow. That little complication was one she was not going think about tonight. She just needed a few hours of oblivion. She shut her eyes and tried to take deep measured breaths.

Sleep was not going to come easy tonight.

It probably wasn't going to come at all.

* * *

Her thoughts were too fragmented to allow the slow unwinding that lead to sleep. Maura looked across the expanse of her bed to where she'd left the blinds open. The muted light of the city night filtered in through the blinds and fell over familiar furnishings.

Half her bed was unwrinkled and smooth. Empty. Almost always empty.

She didn't need to have it filled and for a long time she slept purposefully in the middle, challenging the space with her own presence, but in the end it was just more practical to sleep closer to the nightstand. It felt less awkward, more restful and bedrooms were supposed to be a place of respite.

Maura ran her hand over the smooth duvet. She didn't need to have it filled but that didn't mean she objected to the idea of one day having half of the bed officially designated for someone else. Someone that would be there on a night like this, when the world seemed complicated and especially confusing. She wasn't looking for that person, she didn't think she needed that person, but the space remained open all the same.

Dennis. Dennis Rockmond. Jane thought his name sounded like a character from the Flintstones. No matter how many years of exposure and education she had in deviant human behavior, no matter how many texts she had absorbed, in the end she didn't see that he came right from the script of a horror movie.

She fisted the duvet and brought it close to her chin, warding off a shiver. That monster had somehow uncovered the one small part of her that longed to have the empty space in the bed filled.

Those words from his mouth were a woven tale of happily ever after. She felt tears threaten. She knew better. Of all the women in the world she was logical enough to know that romantic fairy tales were the simple expression of a human ideal. His words echoed in her skull, "My parents, they have the perfect marriage. 30 years and they're still in love. They're soul mates."

Soul mates.

A cliché of epic proportions that she could not comprehend a person accepting as possible until she heard the words directed at her and desperately wanted to believe.

Bitter disappointment in herself stung at the back of her eyes. A life dedicated to science, truth, and facts didn't spare her the illogical hope that it was possible for someone to feel that way about her.

Maura curled up tighter. The only consolation she had was at least she had refrained from welcoming him into her body. At least she was spared the memory of that intimacy. Why, exactly, she had held fast to that last barrier was something she was too tired to fully analyze. Part of her hoped she had recognized on a subconscious level that something was amiss under his natural charisma. She doubted it though.

Poor Jane, she had spent the entire night repeating a mantra of words they both, by training and experience, knew. There was desperation lacing her tone and touch that made Maura realize Jane partially blamed herself for the encounter.

Her fingers rubbed against where the knife had bit into her skin just seconds before Dennis threw himself down the elevator shaft. All she could remember in that instant was the absolute sheer terror in Jane's eyes. They were wide, sad and peppered with a frantic edge she had only seen kneeling next to Paddy at the warehouse. It was Jane Rizzoli realizing there was nothing she could do to fix the horror in front of her.

Then the knife was gone and she was tossed roughly into Jane's arms. There was a bruising grip and murmured reassurances. Frost went to step in but she moved away. Space was her comfort at that moment.

As the panic waned, her thoughts stumbled out in barely coherent sentences and Jane's voice was there, the words not mattering, soothing her, at first just holding her hands, grounding her. The touch was her undoing and shock bled into tears. Jane's arms encircled her fiercely, the pressure of her touch the only anchor as everything continued to spin around her.

Shutting her eyes she tried to think about the baby as a distraction. Tiny fingers, soft infant hair and feather soft skin, a tiny scrap of life. Already his life was under the shadow of choices made by others. Paddy Doyle had decided her life. Dennis's mother had broken his. Lydia had simply run.

In the end it was the children that had to learn to live with pain they earned by simply existing.

Before Maura could stop herself, memories of Hope's rejection twisted in her, grinding out a new bit of pain. She brought her arm over here eyes as tears blurred her vision and she turned carefully over to face the door. A sigh escaped and she wrapped her arms around her torso. She wondered if Jane had fallen asleep yet.

Knowing Jane, Maura was almost positive that she hadn't.

As immature as it was, she wanted Jane here, with her, protecting her, even if it was against herself.


	2. Chapter 2

See Ch1 for disclaimers etc…

And now both chapters are up with the snaffus over (I hope!) :) I suggest a re-read... it was written to be posted as a complete 2-shot

* * *

Jane kicked off the sheets and blankets and slapped the mattress with both hands. That was it, enough. She sat up and ran both hands into her hair, ending on a violent tug. Trying to sleep was more annoying than skipping it all together. Both feet landed with a light thud and she felt instantly better.

Wandering around the room she split the blinds to look out at the empty quiet street. Only in Beacon Hill would there be nothing to look at, god help her. Pacing to the bureau she randomly opened drawers. The faint smell of cedar wafted up. The craftsmanship was nice, dovetail construction and when she pulled it all the way out the back was solid, not like the particle board crap she had on the back of hers.

Looking over at the bathroom door she debated taking another shower but her hair was still damp along the back of her head from the one she took right before bed. Slowly turning around she felt trapped in the space. At the very least she wanted a glass of water. She opened the door as quietly as she could.

Walking down the hall by Maura's room, pressed against the far wall, she hit her head on the edge of a shelf. The muttered expletive was out before she knew it and she winced from the spot of pain, staring at the closed bedroom door. When she didn't hear anything she carefully checked that nothing had broken and left for the kitchen.

* * *

Maura pushed up onto an elbow at the commotion in the hallway. She bit back the urge to call out, debating if it made her appear more pathetic than she had already appeared today. Her internal battle warred on until she realized by the silence that it was a moot point.

Sitting up she strained to hear where Jane was. She thought she heard Jo's dog tags jingling. If she could still hear Jo, Jane was up but in the house. The kitchen perhaps. Minutes crept by and she waited for the television to turn on.

Mildly surprised, she realized the only sounds that trickled back was the hum of Jane's voice as she talked to Jo, the words too muted to make out. So no television. Unable to help herself, Maura clicked on the lamp on the bedside table. It didn't seem as pathetic if Jane noticed the light and realized she was up. It would only mean that they both needed company.

* * *

When Jo realized she wasn't going to be getting a midnight snack, she halfheartedly followed Jane's pacing for a few minutes before flopping onto the area rug by the couch with a sigh.

Frowning, Jane made a face at Jo. "Yeah well, you bore me too, dog." Jo just rolled to her side, eyes already closing. "Sure, rub it in mutt. One of these days I swear I'm going to not buy dog biscuits and then what will you do?" Jo just stretched her legs with a contented snort.

"Just for the snort I'll have you know I'm leaving." Jane double checked the door locks and verified the alarm was armed and slowly trudged her way back towards the guestroom.

Entering the hallway she paused, analyzing the light from under Maura's door and padded her way over to it. The strip of light hit her toes and she wiggled them, watching the shadows rise and fall from the movement.

Maura heard Jane, the quiet steps to her door and the stillness became weighted as she chewed her lip, wondering what Jane would choose to do. Hope swelled in her throat as the door handle moved slightly, the brush of metal barely perceptible if she hadn't been staring at it.

Jane snatched her hand off the door handle. The last thing Maura probably wanted was to be disturbed by her inability to calm down for the night. She let out a long, soft sigh and turned to leave, almost missing her name.

Maura cleared her throat. Jane's name had slipped out but now that it had, she let go of any pretense and called out again, louder, unmistakable. "Jane, would you mind coming in please?"

The door swung inward and Jane filled the doorway, one hand holding a glass of water, the other pushing her curls back in a futile effort. "Hey, I'm sorry I woke you."

Maura shook her head. "I was up. I'm not sure how to go to sleep after today." She sat up against her headboard. "I could use some company." Jane studied her for long, somber moments. She tried to decipher what it was Jane was looking for, but she was too tired to be self conscious and returned the steady gaze.

A broken looking Maura was something Jane was not sure she would ever get used to seeing. She detested Rockmond with a passion rivaling the utter revulsion she had for Hoyt. She clenched her jaw. God damn that fucking psychopath. People like Maura didn't deserve to be tainted by the likes of him. She tried to school her face into smooth impassive lines on her way to the bed.

She wanted Jane to stay and decided to make her point by turning off the light as Jane pulled back the duvet on the other side of the bed.

The light going out startled her just enough to splash water over her hand. "Shit. Sorry. It's only water." Jane placed the glass down on the nightstand and rubbed her hand on her shirt.

Maura slid down, back under the covers, peering at Jane in the darkened room. "I don't care about the water." She patted the space beside her and rolled onto her back.

After a second of deliberation, Jane decided to take the invitation literally and climbed over to the space Maura had been patting, stretching out, bringing their shoulders together. "Are you doing okay?"

Maura shook her head and moved over until she could hear Jane's breathing. "No, I'm not. I don't think I should be, do you?"

It was simple and honest. Jane couldn't argue with her. "No, I don't think anybody could be." Her voice came out in a soft rush. "I'm sorry Maura."

Rolling over onto her side, Maura faced Jane. "For what? You're not the one that saved a monster so he could go out and kill all those poor women." She felt tears prick her eyes. "You're not the one that fell for a serial killer." She gave a short laugh and moved to bury her face into the pillow. "You're not the one that was then blown off by that serial killer. You didn't rush to take him back because you were pathetic enough to believe some contrived fairy tale about soul mates and happily ever after." She turned until her back was to Jane, surprised to feel tears flood her eyes.

Jane turned instantly to Maura, reaching a hand out to rub her shoulder, feeling the gentle tremors from the tears. "Hey, Maura, you did nothing wrong. Nothing. I know you know this. You might not understand it right now but you know this." She slid closer, stroking Maura's arm. "You have an amazing capacity for forgiveness, for giving others the benefit of the doubt. If I could flay Rockmond alive for taking advantage of that I would."

Maura gave a choked gasp and then her back was suffused by the warmth and essence of Jane and for some reason this alone made the tears flow freely.

Jane wrapped her arm around Maura's middle and buried her face in her hair. Eventually the tremors subsided and Maura struggled a bit against her hold until she could reach the tissues on her nightstand. The minute Maura laid back down Jane pulled her back against her tightly, relieved when Maura relaxed instantly.

Maura reached down to grab the hand against her middle and draw it up between her breasts, pressing it firmly against her. "He told me that night he came over that the reason he stayed away was that I scared him. That he ran away because I was so unexpected and special. That we were like his parents, a perfect match, soul mates." She quickly turned around and wrapped her arms around Jane, pressing her forehead in the crook of her neck. "That was what I was smiling about that day I told you I didn't sleep with him. I finally thought someone felt that way about me." Maura couldn't stop the tremor that ran over her. "I fell for the lie. The fairy tale. You always say I'm the dumbest genius you have ever met."

Shaking her head, Jane struggled to find words that Maura couldn't refute or take as pity. Combing her fingers through the ends of Maura's hair her own confession slipped out on a whisper. "We almost weren't in time." She impulsively kissed the side of Maura's head. "I almost lost you."

The statement was muffled against her hair and Maura felt it more than she heard it as Jane pulled her closer and she squeezed back. There was another kiss against the top of her head as she draped herself tightly around and against Jane. She finally felt safe.

Wrapped around each other as tightly as they were, Jane was aware of each inhale and exhale they shared. The sheer relief of their proximity eased her anxiety and the pressure of the day released. The facts still burned through her but at least she was able to relax enough to rest, an easy stillness compared to the nervous tension earlier.

She didn't know how long she spent buried against Jane's neck but eventually the strain of the day melted away until all she could feel were Jane's fingers methodically toying with the ends of her hair. Maura sighed softly and shifted closer luxuriating in the rare moment when Jane's natural barriers were put aside and her actions freely showed her love and affection. She pulled her head back to look up but it was too dark to make out anything clearly.

Jane could feel Maura's eyes on her and she responded by reaching over and kissing her forehead. She lingered, breathing in the scent, warmth and comfort of Maura, alive and whole.

The tender press of lips pulled back and Maura reflexively dug her fingers into Jane's back as if she could bring back the moment. Warm breath washed over her skin, hovering, hesitant, before there was a kiss to her temple and then her cheek as a shiver ran down her spine.

The first graze of their lips was a simple ghosting of breath and a touch. There was a mutual pause as they breathed together, shaky exhales the only sound between them. Mouths brushed together again, pausing to imprint the significance and taste.

Languid, lingering kisses altered between shared breaths. Each slide slowly building in pressure until there was a quiet gasp and a silent sigh as tongues touched together for the first time. Unspoken questions answered by the slipping give and take of touch and taste.

Questing fingers brushed past cotton, pushed under silk, palms mapped the slope of hip and slowly along the feminine dip of waist. Bodies moved closer, meeting, pressing in motion echoed by questing hips and stroking hands. Shivers of anticipation ran, sensitizing skin as tentative touches smoothed over impossibly soft breasts. Fingertips lingering over, touching, drawing nipples into stiffened points. Twin groans as touches became firm, bold, eyes linked as hips met, tipping want into need.

Shaking hands peeled clothing off and blinking, shared, shock as breasts and hips, legs and arms slid together in perfect precision. Arms flexed to pull torsos tighter, hardened nipples raking over silky soft skin, sending sensation ripping down abdomens and thighs. Gentle gasps matched moans as lips tasted and learned curves and secrets. Whispered reassurances, mouthed against delicate ears, followed by the press of teeth and lips to arched necks. Searching fingers pressed and slid into pulsing depths.

Hips rocked in shared purpose, acute need building with each binding thrust. Muscles flexed, bracing and grinding, seeking more until muffled cries spiked a heartbeat of unbearable tension. Wild, slick driving pressure snapped backs as passion spiraled outward in a ferocious release.

Her body still trembling, Jane kept Maura pressed tightly to her, her hands running along the bare skin of her back. As her breathing slowed she felt an underpinning of shock and waited for something to switch, to change the moment, but with each inhale and exhale the only feeling she had was belonging and completion.

Maura's heart was still racing and she could feel an echo against her fingertips as Jane's pulse beat rapidly. Her body felt branded and possessed in a manner she didn't realize was possible. It was illogical. It was incomprehensible. It was perfect. She slipped her arms around Jane and held her as close as she could, afraid that if she let go the moment would end.

Jane became aware of the dampness against her neck and she pulled back, trying not to panic. Maura just shook her head, increasing the pressure of her grip and Jane understood. "I can't promise you a fairy tale." Her fingers rubbed along Maura's spine. "But here is a fact." She kissed Maura's temple, tipped her face up to kiss her lips. "I'm not letting you go." She waited until hazel eyes opened. "I don't understand how anybody ever could."

Jane's hands were running along her torso and Maura shifted in their wake, winding her hands into brunette curls. Shivering at the intensity looking back at her, Maura tugged Jane down. "Sometimes facts are the fairy tale."

**##End##**

* * *

A/N – This kept bouncing around in my head so I'd write a bit… put it aside, thinking it was a bit too dramatic… pick it up again… Finally I just decided to write the darn thing already. Hope it is enjoyed and let me know if you do, it is helpful in trying to understand what to write that people want to read. :)


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